Gomen
by Kirah Ruth
Summary: Hikaru let his brother’s wrist slid out of his grasp as Kaoru began to descend the stairs. He stared at his back until it turned the corner, wondering what could possibly make his twin lie to him.' Twincentric.
1. Chapter 1

"_Hikaru... I'm sorry."_

_Hikaru blinked at his mirror image. He had been getting ready for a date with Haruhi- their two-month anniversary- when his twin had simply gotten up and began to leave the room. And then he had said... that._

_Hikaru ran to catch up, grabbing Kaoru's wrist just before he began to descend the stairs. "What? What're you sorry for?"_

_Kaoru shook his head and gave him a small smile. "Nothing. It was nothing."_

_Hikaru let his twin's wrist slid out of his grasp as Kaoru began to desce_nd _the stairs. He stared at his back until it turned the corner, wondering what could possibly make his twin lie to him._

Hikaru shifted uneasily in his seat, only half paying attention to what Haruhi was saying. He was worried about Kaoru. He knew something was wrong- his heart was turning in his chest and his stomach knotting in a highly unpleasant manner. The smell of food all around him in the restaurant nauseated him.

"Hikaru?" Haruhi's questioning voice rang from a couple feet away. There was a pause as Hikaru looked at her, and then she said softly, "You're worried about Kaoru, aren't you?"

Hikaru paused for a moment to wonder at the fact that she always knew what he was worried about- but then, he reasoned, it wasn't that hard; he spent most of his time away from Kaoru worrying about him.

"Yes," He admitted (there was no use in denying something they both knew was true, anyways) "I guess I am."

Haruhi sighed. "He's _fine_, Hikaru. You two are together too much, anyways- some time apart will help you develop your own personalities.

He was about to point out that they _already_ had their own personalities when his cell phone rang. He recognized the ringtone as the one from home, so he gave Haruhi and appologizing glance and picked it up, turning his head slightly away.

"Hello?" He said quickly. A strangled sob met his ears. The knot of nervousness in his stomach twisted painfully tight.

"H...Hi...Hikaru?" His mother's strangled voice called over the line.

"Yes?" He was getting almost panicky now- something was wrong, he _knew_ something was wrong...

"Come home. Please. Immediately." She said, her voice firm and yet cracking. "I already sent a driver for you- he'll be there soon."

Hikaru blinked, and then nodded, and then realized she couldn't see him. "I'll be right there."

"Alright." His mom murmured, and then hung up. Hikaru lowered his phone softly. He was quite certain he was going to be sick if he had to stay in here. He got up, and then remembered Haruhi.

"Haruhi... something's wrong. That was my mom, I... I have to go." He realized that that really didn't really make any sense, but he couldn't explain further. "I'll make it up to you."

Haruhi nodded. "I hope everything's ok."

Hikaru managed to say softly, "Me too," before rushing out the door to find a limo already pulled up. It was raining, so he got in gratefully, hoping at the last minute that Haruhi had a ride home.

The drive back to his house had never been so long. The knots of nervousness were loosening and tightening in a painful manner, and his heart was beating so fast he could hardly hear the pouring rain outside the limo. He tried not to think about what was wrong, what had his mother in such hysterics, but he failed miserably.

_Does it have something to do with how Kaoru was acting earlier? Did he do something? Is he..._ Hikaru stopped that thought abruptly, unable to bear going any further.

When the limo pulled up to his house, he pulled open the door before the vehicle had completely coming to a stop, ignoring the look of disdain from the chauffeur in his haste to rush up the driveway and through the front door. Figuring his mother would be in her study if she was as hysterical as she sounded (that was where she always went for privacy), he came up and knocked softly on the door.

"Okaa-san?" He called. A choked sob answered him, and then a 'Come in.'

He walked into the study to find his mom sitting on her chair that she often made new designs in, clearly more upset than he had initially thought, which was saying something. She looked up at him, and then burst into tears. She murmured something, and Hikaru's eyes widened.

_What did she just... 'I never have to worry about confusing them again?' No. I misheard. She couldn't have said that, because that would mean..._

"Mom, what is this about?" He questioned, harsher than he meant to but not bothering to correct himself.

His mother took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Hikaru… Kaoru... he… he was driving to somewhere along the coast… and…" She took another breath, and there was a moment of silence. Hikaru wanted to strangle her. "His car veered off a cliff along the coast." Hikaru couldn't breath. "They haven't found him… but… there's no way, Hikaru, the car is in pieces, a rock went right through the driver's side…Kaoru's…"

Hikaru couldn't listen anymore. He ran up to his room, no, _their_ room, collapsing on the bed. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he pushed them away. His twin was alive. He _knew_ that his twin was alive. There was no way… he would _know…_

_I'm sorry, Hikaru…_

The click of the door opening snapped him out of it. He looked over, the world looking more blurred with tears than it should have.

It was the twins that served as their personal maids. Their heads were bowed at the exact same angle. "Master Hikaru… We are sorry for your loss," they said in unison. _Just like me and Kaoru._ As they stepped out, it sunk in.

His twin _was_ dead. He wasn't coming back. He would never see him again; never sleep next to him again; never know what he was thinking without words, never again…

The tears couldn't keep up with the wave of horror, of despair, of utter destruction that came over him. To say he fell apart would be an understatement. He imploded upon himself, his mind both unable to fathom the thought of not seeing Kaoru again- _God, it hurt even to think his name_- and being utterly broken at the fact that he _wouldn't._

His tears soaked through the pillow, and dawn was leaking in the window by the time he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, salty trails traced down his cheeks.

A/N: So, you might have seen this story before, but I changed the end slightly… for a reason, too. Looks suspiciously at the change of genre from tragedy to drama I sense a plot twist… but even I am not entirely certain where this is going. If I get past 3 chapters (that's my record for fanfiction) it'll be a miracle, but I'm hoping to have around 10 chappies if plot bunnies keep invading. My computer is dying quickly, though, so hopefully I'll be able to write this while I still have inspiration.


	2. Chapter 2

Hikaru's eyes fluttered open. His first thought was that it was entirely too bright in the room, and he was going to be very angry if no one had gotten him up and he was late for school. His second thought was that he was cold.

His third thought was the reason behind both of these. It was cold because Kaoru wasn't there. And- of course- his mother had left him alone, not wanting him to go to school even if he wouldn't have fought tooth and nail if she tried to make him.

And the reason behind Kaoru not being there was that Kaoru was dead.

It hurt, but strangely, it was like trying to break a vase that had already been shattered- the most you could do was grind you heel in it. But it still _hurt_.

So the pattern of most of Hikaru's day began. He would cry, regain his composure, look up, see something that reminded him of Kaoru (which was everything), and completely break down again.

Sometime into the afternoon- he didn't have to will to grab his cell phone and check what time it was, exactly- a hesitant knock was heard at the door. He ignored it until his mom's soft voice came from the other side of the door.

"Hikaru... can I come in?" Her voice sounded as shaky as his entire being felt. He tried to answer her, chocked on the words, and instead ended up coughing. She apparently took this as assent, because a second later the door opened and his mother's face peered in. He turned and buried his head in a pillow, but apparently she caught sight of his tear-stained face, because she came over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hikaru… oh, Hikaru, I'm so sorry, you two were so close…" His mother murmured as she tried to embrace him. He began to wonder if she had only come in here to make an attempt at comforting him when her voice took on a slightly more serious edge. "They… they still can't find his body," A savage, rebellious hope lit in his stomach at these words, "but… you'd have to see the car, Hikaru. It's shredded, the drivers side door was torn completely off. They're holding it down at the station… if you… want to…"

"_No."_ Hikaru hated how his voice was so weak and shaky, but it got his point across anyways. "No way." The hope, almost as soon as it was born, flickered out.

His mother nodded and got up. "Alright then. I…" She took a breath, and then said, in as motherly a voice as she could manage, "I'm right down the stairs if you need me, Hikaru."

The door closed with a soft click behind her, and Hikaru let out a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding, and wiped furiously at the eyes that were watering all over again.

He appreciated his mother's offer- really, he did. But he didn't need her. He needed his brother. His twin, his other half, his mirror, his best friend…

It took a couple seconds to sink in that he was crying again. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, his entire face hurt, but it was difficult to stop. In fact, it was difficult to keep from turning over and screaming at the sky and throwing a tantrum at God, demanding his twin back.

If only it was that easy.

An hour later, there was another knock on the door. He turned to look at it, expecting his mother again, but instead, the two identical maids peeked in the door. He turned away, trying to hide the bright redness of his face and the stains the tears had made on his eyes and cheeks.

"Lord Hikaru, there are people here to see you," they began. He opened his mouth to tell them to get out, as well as whoever the guests were, when they added, "A tall blonde gentleman with a French accent, a young man with glasses…"

"Send them up," He interrupted. He was as surprised as the maids at his request, but he tried to hide it. "But... tell them to wait a couple minutes, first. I need to get cleaned up." His voice was getting steadier, he noted. The maids nodded and left, and he spent a good 30 seconds just working up the willpower to get up. He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on his face, trying to scrub away the tears that had dried there. He sat there, leaning on the counter, trying hard not to think (because thinking led to Kaoru led to... no, no thinking, no thinking…), when he heard the soft click of his bedroom door opening. He stepped out with far more composure than he felt, looking at the members of the Host Club before him. All of them, even Hani, were subdued. Tamaki looked as though he had been crying. Haruhi wouldn't meet his eyes. Even Kyouya and Mori looked slightly sad.

He walked over and sat on the bed. "Hello." His voice was too quite, hollow, almost. He wondered why for a second, and then realized it was because he was the only one who had spoken- Kaoru's voice hadn't chorused along with it. He forced the thought aside, keeping the tears that emerged with it at bay. He sighed. "I'll assume you're here to offer your condolences?"

"Yes," It was Kyouya who spoke. "And to ask how long you plan on being out of school."

Hikaru glared hard at Kyouya. "School does _not_ matter to me right now, Kyouya."

Hani looked up at him with watering eyes, clutching the bunny that he always carried around to his chest. "Does that mean you're not coming back to the Host Club?"

Hikaru sighed and looked away. His throat hurt, and his eyes and nose burned. "I don't know, Hani." The truth was that he had no intention of doing so. They were his best friends, but he didn't think he could bring himself to step foot in the third music room again without Kaoru by his side. It was difficult enough seeing the Host Club without his brother's reassuring presence. Besides, there was no forbidden brotherly love with only one brother.

His nose and eyes burned hotter, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Another thought that he had to push away.

"We're all very sorry, Hikaru," Tamaki said, noticeably lacking his usual flamboyance.

"I'm tired of people saying they're sorry! It's not like pity changes anything!" Hikaru snapped. The silence that followed was very heavy, and Hikaru almost regretted lashing out.

Finally, Tamaki spoke again. "Perhaps… we should go." There was a soft murmur of agreement from the other members, and they trailed out. Just as she was stepping out, though, Haruhi paused.

"Hikaru?" Hikaru glanced at her, and she met his eyes for the first time since she had come in. "Don't waste away. It's not what Kaoru would have wanted."

_I won't know what Kaoru would want anymore, will I?_ He wanted to snap. But he didn't, because Haruhi was looking at him with an expression somewhere between scolding and grief, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all.

"And…" She paused so long he thought she might not continue. "Don't forget… he was our friend too."

She stepped out, but Hikaru spent a long time staring at the doorway that she had vacated. Realizing that the door was still open, he got up from the bed and made the few stumbling steps to the door before slamming it. He collapsed against it, his head resting on the edge of the frame.

They had been his friends, yes. But they had not known him like Hikaru had. They didn't see him like Hikaru did.

And they certainly didn't miss him as much as Hikaru did.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was overestimating Haruhi's ability to understand him.

Far away, Kaoru watched waves roar up against a rocky coastline. The mist that was cast up formed little rainbows in the air. A sick feeling twisted in his gut.

He missed his twin, yes, but he knew that whatever he was feeling, Hikaru was feeling ten times worse.

The guilt suffocated him, and he closed his eyes, feeling both unworthy of and irritated with the beautiful ocean before him.

He was such a coward.

A/N: So… angst. As well as foreshadowing… but I hope no one guesses quite yet. I'm hoping for this story to be at least five or six chapters, ten if I'm lucky and get inspiration.

It's kinda funny- I was listening to Chieko Kawabe (the artist who sings "Sakura Kiss," the opening song to OHSHC) while writing the beginning of this, and it still turned out fairly angst-y. That's not an easy task, I'm telling you.

I love reviewers! They are my life blood… that and music. I hope to get at least the next chapter written before my spring break is up, and reviews will help with that!

Kirah


	3. Chapter 3

Kaoru stirred restlessly on the hotel bed. It was uncomfortable, or at least not nearly as soft as the bed back at the mansion.

He ignored the fact that the softness of it had less to do with his sleeplessness than the fact that he was the only one in the room, that he didn't have his brother's breathing to lull him to sleep, that for the first time in his life he was spending the night in a foreign place without his brother.

He had to ignore that fact, because it didn't feel right to feel sorry for himself when he could only imagine what Hikaru was going through. Oh, he missed him- it had been a little more than 24 hours and he already missed him so much it hurt- but he knew it couldn't compare with what his brother was feeling.

He missed Hikaru, but at least he knew that Hikaru was _alive_. Guilt twisted in his gut again. Yes, he certainly had no right to feel sorry for himself.

The sun shone insistently in the window, going straight through the curtains and illuminating the room in the most irritating way possible. Kaoru sighed and forced himself to get up. He hadn't slept for more than scarce, light minutes at a time since two days ago. He wondered absent-mindedly if Hikaru had, either. And then he tried, futilely, to keep his thoughts from drifting back to Hikaru again.

He had wandered downstairs to force himself to eat something, anything, of the free breakfast that the hotel offered. Grabbing the first thing he saw- a bagel and cream cheese- he sat down at an empty table and glanced up lazily at one of the many televisions scattered throughout the lobby as he spread cream cheese over it. He was only half paying attention when he suddenly jumped at the fact that he was looking at a very famliar face. To be specific, he was looking at his _own _face, plastered on the backdrop of the morning news. He wondered, briefly, when anybody had gotten a picture of him without his brother, but that was unimportant compared to _why_ his face was on the morning news.

It should have been obvious, really, that the death of one of the twin sons of a very famous fashion designer would draw media attention, especially with nothing else going on. Still, it was odd- and disconcerting- to hear his "death" discussed by calm, almost cheerful news anchors. And it made him nauseous when they showed the picture of the car- it wasn't just totaled, it was completely torn apart. The driver's side door was missing, as well as the hood of the car- or perhaps it was part of the multitude of metal that seemed to have been pushed backwards be the force of falling off the cliff. The picture in and of itself was scary, as he was sure was the purpose. But the knowledge that he supposedly had been in that car, that Hikaru _thought_ he had been in that car, made him push away the half-eaten bagel and turn away.

Not for the first time in two days, he questioned how wise it was to be here. Well, rather, he questioned if he wanted to be there. Alone, forced to hide who he was for fear of being recognized, his hair now dyed a deep shade of brown and so messy it was difficult to tell what direction it parted in at all. Not to mention that he was in the middle of nowhere, and it was highly unlikely that anyone would think to compare the poor boy on the morning news with the boy eating a bagel alone in a hotel lobby.

No, Kaoru did not want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere but here, but he was confident in his decision none the less. But, after all, he had been known to make mistakes.

Hikaru woke sometime long after the sun had moved out of the window to his room and high into the sky. The back of his mind wondered how he had slept through the blinding light of the sun, but he decided that it was unimportant. He felt dizzy, and it took him a minute to figure out the obvious reason why.

It was finally dawning on him that he could not continue on like this, staying in his room and refusing to eat anything at all, as proven by the aching feeling in his stomach and the weakness in his limbs.

_Don't waste away. It's not what Kaoru would have wanted._

He had to admit that Haruhi was right. If Kaoru was here, he would have forced Hikaru to eat something. He wouldn't have allowed his twin to lock hiself in here, starving himself, because he couldn't stand to go outside that door and take the first steps, however small and insignificant they seemed, to moving on. As he thought on this, he realized that he was, indeed, hungry- he hadn't eaten since the last, nervous meal with Haruhi, now two days ago.

Which brought to mind another memory, one he hadn't really considered yet.

_Hikaru... I'm sorry._

Kaoru's apology, right before he had left for... somewhere. It occurred to him that he still didn't know where his brother had been going that night. And he didn't know what he had apologized for.

A horrible thought occurred to him then, one so terrible he didn't really want to think about it, but he had to, because it was one of those thoughts that just thinks about itself if you ignore it.

Kaoru had apologized. He had seemed... jealous of Haruhi in the past. He didn't say where he was going. _He lied_, he remembered, feeling again the little stab of betrayal that came from knowing his brother wasn't telling the truth. But these thoughts... Hikaru didn't like what they were telling him.

The thought that maybe... maybe it wasn't the rain that had caused the car to go out of control. Maybe the car hadn't gone out of control at all. That this was all... intentional.

He couldn't breath. He sat down on the bed again, all appetite lost. It made sense, _too much_ sense, and he didn't want to think about it anymore, but he had to.

And past the despair, and loneliness, and the spreading numbness that always comes with long periods these feelings, there came a stabbing feeling of guilt that began to eat away at his mind.

A/N: Well, I didn't like this chapter as much, but it's three in the morning and I felt bad for not updating. As an excuse, I have to say- to quote, um, Ollette (I think):

"Independent studies are the _worst._"

I've spent 6 hours on this stupid report just over Spring Break, and I'm still only half done... I hate my English teacher so much. But, there, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

And you people are spoiling me with your reviews, really. My cousin Ocean came in here and told me to shut up and stop squealing like a fangirl when I opened my inbox and discovered eight reviews... which is, by far, the most I have gotten overnight, ever. Not like I'm complaining. I love you all :)

Oh, and as a side note (this author's note is getting long!) This chapter is dedicated to sohma-kitty-10-14, who I randomly befriended for no other reason than the fact that she showed up on Yahoo search, and I thought that was cool. Because life is full of random, awesome things like that.


	4. Chapter 4

Hikaru had gone back to staring blankly at the ceiling when his mother, without prelude, walked in. She took a deep breath and said softly, "Hikaru... you need to eat, and get dressed. We're going out."

Hikaru glared at his mother, barely summoning the energy to do even that. "Where?"

Her eyes were so full of pain, he felt sorry for snapping at her, for ignoring her the past few days. But he couldn't take so much of a step from this room- he couldn't bring himself to take a single step from this place, where the memories of Kaoru were the strongest, where he could almost see his brother, just standing across from him the same way he had been his entire life.

She bowed her head and took a deep breath. "To make funeral preparations," she murmured. Hikaru's throat tightened in pain and anger.

"But they haven't found his body yet, have they?" His mother stayed silent, and the tightening spread to his stomach, making him sick. "Have they?"

He couldn't see his mother's eyes, but he didn't have to; he knew, from the soft shaking of her shoulders, that she was crying. "Hi...Hikaru... they found the clothes that he was wearing, and his blood on them. Leading ourselves on, thinking he might still be alive... is pointless now. Half of the people who die in the ocean are never found." She sounded like she was convincing herself of it, killing any painful hope before it could blossom. Hikaru bowed his head and refused to cry _again_. It was getting ridiculous.

His mother took a breath and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, then continued. "So you need to come with me. I can't do this alone, Hikaru. I want you downstairs in 15 minutes." She left, closing the door behind her.

Hikaru looked up, wiping at his eyes and forcing his legs up. They were weak- all of him was, after two days of sitting and crying- but he walked into the bathroom and avoided looking at his reflection as he combed his hair and brushed his teeth. He was almost successful in completely avoiding looking in the mirror when he caught sight of his reflection as he walked out.

That was all it took. He hated his reflection; it looked _so much_ like Kaoru, but it _wasn't_ him. The little things that made them different- the way they smiled, the slight wideness to Kaoru's eyes that he could never immitate, the deeper expression that Kaoru so often carried- were all absent. A portrait that looked so similar it was heartbreaking, but it wasn't the real thing.

He hadn't completely realized what he was doing until the sharp pain of glass in his hand cut into his mind. He pulled back abruptly as the shards of the mirror clattered onto the counter and floor. He walked back over to the sink, which was still wet from him brushing his teeth, and ran the water. It ran pink with his blood before swirling down the drain. Once the water was clear again, he pulled his hand out and reached for the cabinet, pulling out a box of bandages. He knew where they were by heart- he and Kaoru had gotten hurt so often that it had simply become easier to bandage themselves to avoid awkward questions.

It was difficult to put the bandages on by himself. He had become so used to another hand, virtually identical to his own, putting them on that he was extremely uncoordinated. The bandage fluttered to the floor and he bent to pick it up. He straightened, and the bandage was plucked from his hands by someone standing in front of him. Looking up slightly, he saw that it was his mother. She gave him a tiny, understanding smile and slowly, carefully, put the bandage on his hand. She did it differently from Kaoru, the angle slightly different, putting a little bit of pressure on the wound before pressing it down...

He didn't acknowledge the tears until his mother finished bandaging his hand and pulled him into an embrace. Accepting any comfort he was offered, even if it made him feel like he was six years old again, he let himself cry.

Kaoru started out of his daze by a solid knock on the door. He glared at it for a second, irritated that the closest thing he had gotten to sleep had been interrupted, before forcing himself up to answer it. The face on the other side almost made him fall over in surprise.

"Ky... Kyouya?" Kaoru stared at the taller man for a minute, confused. "How did you..." He trailed off, shaking his head and deciding quite firmly that, as with most things with Kyouya, he didn't want to know.

"Kaoru." Kyouya's voice was shockingly cold, even for the normally stoic man. Getting a distinct feeling of impending doom, Kaoru stepped out of the way and motioned for Kyouya to step inside. The door closed, and Kyouya turned back to him. "You've caused quite a stir," he said conversationally.

Feeling as though that was grossly understating it, Kaoru glared at him. "What do you want?"

Kyouya looked at him through barely-narrowed eyes for a moment before saying, "Have you considered the fact that your plan might have... unforseen repercussions?"

Looking at him in confusion, Kaoru shook his head. "Meaning...?"

Kyouya looked away, towards the window. Outside, the sun was high out of sight from the view of the ocean. "I saw Hikaru yesterday, along with the rest of the Host Club. He was a wreck. He had obviously been crying almost constantly, and he didn't appear to have eaten since before the accident. Even Haruhi couldn't talk to him." Kyouya let the impact of his words sink in before turning back to Kaoru. "Your brother is in more pain than you can imagine, Kaoru."

Kaoru couldn't stand to hold that accusing gaze. "You know exactly why I did this, Kyouya. He'll live. He's a perfectly functioning human being without me."

"Physically, yes, he could be. Mentally, though, Kaoru? Do you think that he- either of you, actually- were ready for such a forceful separation? Do you really think that he, who has always had less control over his emotions, was prepared to be torn away from you?" The accusing tone in Kyouya's voice sent chilling shivers down Kaoru's spine, and he found himself stumbling for a response.

"He... I... He'll survive," Kaoru managed. He could feel Kyouya's eyes boring into his head, a steady, cold glare.

"Will he?" Kaoru's ability to breath abruptly disappeared with those words. Kyouya walked himself to the door. "Think about this, Kaoru. Hikaru is in a worse state than you can imagine him in. Your little charade is costing him his sanity." Kyouya opened the door. "My family owns this hotel. You may stay as long as you like, the charge won't go directly to your family account. Oh, and there was some more convincing evidence than a wrecked car found near the site of the crash." The door closed. Kaoru was still trying to breath past the lump in his throat that felt something like he had attempted to swallow a knife. A few chocked tears made their way down his cheeks.

"_He'll survive."_

"_Will he?"_

The words echoed each other in Kaoru's head, filling him with dread, terror, and fear. And a desperate desire to run the 200 miles home and hug his brother and apologize for this stupid, stupid idea. The thought captivated his mind, and he found himself unable to stop himself from crying for the first time since two days ago.

A/N: I'm getting tired of writing about people crying. Seriously, I know this is sad, but I wish the stupid characters would stop crying and do what I want them to.

_Anyways._ I hate this chapter with a burning and fiery passion, but really, four months is far too long to wait for _anything_ and the discovery that I had far more fans than I thought was really too flattering. Unfortunately, I've had this written for a while and just hated it too much to post it- so I haven't actually _written_ any of this story since April. I've kind of lost interest in the Ouran fandom, and I _hate_ where this story is going, but I swear upon my twin's grave (assuming she has one) that I will _try_ to write the next chapter. Probably not soon, though. I'm going back to school next week, and since I have a job on the weekends, I won't have time to breathe, let alone write.

It just occurred to me that swearing on my twin's grave is a morbid thing to do, given the contents of this story, but probably the most effective.

Reviews are loved, adored, pampered, and coddled! They just might inspire me, too.


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